


'Til We Lose Control

by doctormccoy



Series: There's Only Three Things [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom!Bucky, Car Sex, Commission fic, Consensual Bruising Kink, Corsets and Stockings, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Insecurity, M/M, Mild D/S undertones, Multi, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Porn with some plot, Post-TWS, Praise Kink, Renaissance Faire, Rimming, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Steve take Bucky to a Renaissance Faire, and Bucky remembers what it is to want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til We Lose Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jokerswild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokerswild/gifts).



> Title from ["Raging Fire"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXRODrspQpc) by Phillip Phillips.
> 
> A commission fic for jokerswild!
> 
> So I blinked and this ended up being like 6000 words of ot3 porn and feelings oops.
> 
> Corny endings because that's what I'm about.
> 
> Meant as a sort of continuation fic of [Super Soldiers and Sandwiches](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2419565), but can be read as a standalone. I'll definitely write more involving these three big dumbs, thus, I made it into a series people can subscribe to if they want.

Bucky isn’t really quite sure where all of this began, but, he’s pretty sure it has something to do with two stubborn soldiers and a television commercial.

It takes Sam and Steve the better part of an hour that morning to convince Bucky to come with them to the Renaissance Faire they had seen advertised the night before. Bucky doesn’t particularly like anything that involves leaving the house still, even when Steve and Sam are with him. He’s perfectly content to stay home while they go he insists, even as he follows them out to the car and slides into the back seat.

They stick out in the crowd of costumed Faire goers in their jeans and t-shirts, and Bucky has his too long hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, his face pinching whenever a stranger remarks on his metal arm. They think it’s a prop of some sort, or a piece of a strange costume, and that means a thousand questions on how he made it and what it was supposed to be from.

Bucky supposes he probably should have worn sleeves or something to hide it, but the summer sun is hot and he doesn't really feel like spending the day soaked in sweat. 

Sam and Steve, at least, seem proud of the way he manages to handle every curious look and question without getting angry or running away. Sam buys him fried dough and Bucky sits to eat it while they watch a jousting competition, his eyes following the two armor clad women as they charge at one another, face covered in powdered sugar.

Steve is smiling when he reaches over to kiss the white dusting from his lips, and Bucky sighs contently at the familiar touch. He may not like leaving the house but there are certainly some perks to letting Sam and Steve take him out.

Eventually they end up in the area of the Faire overflowing with crowded stalls and people trying to sell their artwork and handmade clothing. Bucky finds himself entranced by the shockingly intricate metal work and embroidery, drifting between each small ‘shop’ to study the array of jewelry, chainmail, clothing, and other assorted pieces. 

Nothing really catches his eye until he stops in front of a stall that seems to sell nothing but handmade corsets, ranging from simple and clean designs to gorgeous pieces of silk and lace, some embroidered with intricate designs and others beaded and trimmed with ribbons.

Bucky’s never seen so many beautiful things all in one place before, and he doesn’t even acknowledge Sam or Steve standing behind him as he reaches up to take one down from its hanger, a pretty midnight blue silk one edged with black lace and adorned with black silk ribbon. Delicate looking flowers are embroidered into the blue torso of the corset, and Bucky swallows thickly, rubbing his thumb over the elegant stitching.

“Natasha will totally get a kick out of that,” Steve says from somewhere behind him, and Bucky turns his head quickly to stare at him. Sam doesn’t miss the way Bucky pulls the corset towards his chest, as if to stop anyone from taking it away from him. The shop keeper has come around her stall and seems unsure of whether to interrupt the odd energy crackling between the trio, fiddling with the ribbon on the dark green corset she herself was wearing.

“Can I help you boys with something?” she asks slowly, and Sam pauses, looking between a confused Steve, and Bucky, who resembles a cornered, frightened animal with the corset clutched between his fingers.

“Yeah, is there a way he can try that on?”

It’s Steve’s head that whips sideways, now, and he stares openmouthed at Sam as the shop keeper nods and gestures behind her at the changing stalls that are set up behind it, so people can make sure something fits before they buy it. She doesn’t seem at all surprised that a man might be interested in wearing her corsets – the Faire attracted all sorts of people, and there was a pretty strong mindset of zero judgment among them.

Sam is pretty sure his arm around Bucky’s shoulder is the only thing keeping him upright as he leads him to where she had pointed, Steve following mutely behind the pair of them. 

“I don’t think it’ll fit Nat if it fits me,” Bucky tries to joke, still clutching the corset against his chest even as Sam tugs the curtain shut on the cubicle, a look on his face that suggests he ain’t buying what Bucky’s selling.

Steve just looks bemused at this point, having finally figured out exactly what was going on here. 

“It’s okay to like it, Buck. Do you? Like it, that is,” Steve asks in a low voice, and Bucky swallows thickly, running his fingers absently over the dark blue silk. He isn’t supposed to ask for things, or want things, not like this. Steve and Sam dig him out of a gutter when they finally catch up with him, bleeding out from his most recent attack on Hydra. It had once been a lightly guarded research facility on the outskirts of Quebec City, according to Bucky's memory, but has since become a heavily guarded weapons storage unit, and he is wholly unprepared for the firestorm he encounters. He may be a one man army, sure, but he isn’t immortal.

Sam and Steve clean him up and convince him to come home with them, and he’s been here with them ever since. First there is Sam and Steve, and then Sam and Steve and Steve and Bucky.

And then somewhere along the way it becomes Sam and Steve and Bucky, and Bucky has never once regretted the choice he’s made to let them make him a part of their lives.

It’d been the first time he allowed himself to have something that he wanted, for no other reason than that it made him happy. 

But is he allowed to do it again? Are weapons even supposed to be capable of wanting for the sake of having?

“I do.. like it,” he answers quietly, and pauses, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it doesn't come he looks back down at the corset, thumbing at the embroidery. He wanted and nothing bad happened. Steve and Sam are both still watching him, their expressions patient and understanding. No one is trying to take it away from him, or punish him for misbehaving. 

“Then try it on and see if it fits, Bucky,” Sam prods gently, and Bucky nods, suddenly nervous as he sets the corset on the bench in the cube and pulls his t-shirt over his head, wincing at the sight of his scarred chest. He’s quick to loosen the laces of the corset and slip it on over the dark scarring, biting his lip as he puts his back to the other two, the summer air warm and sticky against his bare skin.

Sam is the first one to recover from the initial shock of _Bucky in a corset_ and he jolts forward to help tug the black silk ribbon of the lacing taut, unable to resist the urge to run his hands over the corset between each row of metal hooks, tying it into a bow at the bottom, where it sat snug over the swell of Bucky’s jean clad ass.

His hands are still on Bucky when the other man turns around to look at them, and while his face is painted with a cocky smirk both Sam and Steve can see the faint glint of vulnerability and uncertainty in his face. 

“Do you like it?”

Sam can’t help but grin as he ghosts his palms up and down Bucky’s sides, feeling the sturdy ribbing of the corset that’s holding all of Bucky in. The dark blue of the silk is a stark contrast to the milky paleness of Bucky’s skin, and Sam can’t help but follow the line with his fingers, heat pooling in the pit of his belly.

“It looks amazing on you, Bucky,” Sam murmurs, and Bucky’s breathing hitches when strong hands are pulling their hips together and Steve suddenly appears behind him, a solid, warm weight against Bucky’s back.

Steve’s mouth is on Bucky’s neck and his hands find purchase on the narrow hourglass of his waist, grinding his hips against his ass and pushing him forward into Sam, leaving him sandwiched between two clearly aroused men intent on disheveling him before they even pay for the corset.

Bucky shivers as four hands roam over his corseted torso and a pair of lips assault the sensitive curve of his neck, reaching out with his left arm to pull Sam in for a hungry kiss until the sunlight glinting off the metal catches his attention.

He goes rigid between Sam and Steve and it only takes a moment for the pair of them to realize something has gone wrong, untangling themselves and stepping apart slowly, so as not to spook the distraught looking man between them.

“Buck? You okay?” Steve asks cautiously, watching as Bucky studies the metal arm, his gaze trailing up the overlapping plates to settle on the dark, mottled scarring that marks where metal meets flesh. His face twists in disgust and he reaches behind himself to start tugging at the ribbon, succeeding in loosening it a fraction until Steve’s hands are stopping him, gently pulling him away from the lacing of the corset and folding him against his chest.

Bucky hears Steve murmuring something against his ear, but he can’t wrap his head around the words just yet, his brow furrowed and eyes still fixed on the ruin of his left shoulder. It’s a mockery next to the delicate lace and silk, and Bucky closes his eyes when Sam’s the one to come up behind him this time, trembling at the gentle press of lips against the back of his neck. 

“It’s wrong to want this. I don’t deserve this,” Bucky whispers, ignoring the soft way Sam sighs into his hair, and the tightening of Steve’s arms around his waist.

“It’s not wrong to want, Bucky. It’s completely normal and human. It’s healthy to want something if it makes you feel good,” Sam soothes, leaving a trail of kisses over Bucky’s right shoulder even as Steve tilts Bucky’s face up so he can press their lips together. 

“You deserve to be happy more than anyone I’ve ever known. And the corset makes you happy, right?”

Bucky lets Steve tuck his head into the safe hollow of space beneath his chin, trying to catalog the flurry of emotions filling his chest like a bee hive. The corset is snug around his body, and it reminds Bucky of the tight constriction of his body armor. It must be the association that makes him think of safety and protection. Like the corset is a shield, protecting him from all the terrible things and terrible people that want to hurt him.

Of course, it’s only an expensive scrap of pretty fabric lined with metal ribbing, and would certainly be useless against any sort of weapon that someone might use to attack him.

But it makes Bucky feel… contained. Safe, and wrapped up, like a child with a security blanket that protects them from the shadows under the bed. 

“Yeah, it does,” he says finally, feeling the curve of Sam’s smile against his skin. 

Maybe it is okay to want just this one thing, if it makes Sam and Steve happy to see him wanting it.

“Then we’ll get it,” Steve hums from somewhere around Bucky’s temple, sliding his hands easily down his back to settle on his waist again. Bucky huffs out a laugh when he feels Steve none too subtly cupping his ass and squeezing, and Sam’s mouth is currently doing wicked things to his earlobe, teeth scraping across the sensitive flesh.

“Besides, Buck. We weren’t joking when we said you look good in it.”

Bucky wants to melt to the floor at the barely disguised heat in Steve’s voice and he nods dumbly, shuddering as he gropes out blindly for his t-shirt.

“Then maybe you should let me go so I can change and we can go home with our purchase,” Bucky groans, trying to push the two aroused men off him, hoping he can attempt to make himself somewhat presentable for the public. 

That is, until a wicked idea strikes him, and he reaches out for his t-shirt and tugs it on _over_ the corset. The outlines of the corset are still visible through the thin fabric and Bucky can see them both tracing it with their eyes, their expressions filling with lust and hunger.

Bucky wants them to want him. 

The drive home is a rather messy affair, once they manage to stumble their way back to the stall and pay the amused shop keeper for her work. Steve is driving, his hands white knuckled against the wheel as he tries to pay attention to the road and not look at the rearview mirror, where the reflection shows Sam and Bucky sprawled across the backseat, trading sloppy, open mouthed kisses.

Sam’s never been happier to own a garage and a car with tinted windows as he yanks Bucky’s jeans off and dumps them on the floor, the t-shirt having been discarded the instant they climb in the car. Bucky’s spread out beneath him like the most coveted present under the Christmas tree, and Sam’s already made a mess of his mouth, swollen and red from their kissing. 

“Fuck, Steve, you should see him. Prettiest goddamn thing I ever saw,” Sam growled, watching as Bucky squirms against the narrow seat, trying to find any kind of friction for the erection tenting his boxers beneath the corset. He hears Steve make some sort of pained, choked off noise from the front seat and grins, licking a hot stripe up the curve of Bucky’s neck. He had started shaving regularly in the last month, and Sam enjoys the feeling of smooth skin beneath his lips as he sucks bruises into existence, unable to keep his hands off the soft silk of Bucky’s new corset. 

“Maybe we should get him matching stockings and underwear,” Steve suggests roughly, and Sam has to muffle his own groan, now, sitting up so he can palm at the growing bulge in his jeans. It would certainly add to the picture, and Sam studies the wrecked, hooded face of the man beneath him, the way his dark hair, pulled loose of the pony tail, fans out beneath his head like a frame, and the trusting way he’s got his arms folded above his head, letting Sam take complete control.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? A nice pair of stockings to match this gorgeous corset of yours, wrap you up all pretty and take you to bed,” Sam purrs, ghosting his palms up the inside of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky shudders and nods desperately at the question, spreading his legs easily as Sam’s hands move closer and closer to where he wants them to be. He lifts his hips and lets him yank his underwear down and off, leaving him in just the corset, now, cock hard and leaking against his thigh. He’s never been much of a talker in bed, and Sam’s going to be disappointed in himself if he can’t even get Bucky to moan after saying something like _that._

Bucky is always silent during sex, save the occasional whimper or moan. It isn’t that he or Steve particularly dislike the quiet, but, they will certainly find it rewarding if they’re able to bring down that strict, rigid control Bucky always holds over himself.

So Sam scoots himself as far back as he can in the SUV and buries his face between Bucky’s thighs, nuzzling against the sensitive patch of skin behind his sac. 

“Want you to tell me where you want my mouth, Bucky,” Sam whispers, breath ghosting over his cock as he speaks, a wicked grin on his face. He can feel the desperate shiver shoot through the other man’s body when his short beard rubs against the delicate flesh, pleased that there’s a hand suddenly clutching at his hair. 

It pushes him down lower, and Sam follows its guidance, reaching up with his own hands so he can spread Bucky open and expose the twitching pink pucker to his gaze. He leans in just close enough that his lips brush against it when he talks, a wicked smile curving across his mouth.

“This where you want me, Buck? You gotta ask nicely for it,” he teases, hearing Steve’s moan from the front seat and suddenly struck by another idea.

“Ask Steve for permission. Ask him if you can have what you want.”

Bucky whimpers faintly above Sam, his head twisting from side to side even as he hooks his legs over Sam’s shoulders, trying to pull him the rest of the way to where he wants him to be. When it’s clear he isn’t about to get anything through silence, Bucky finally gives in, and let’s himself want just a little bit.

“S-Steve please, please, I want his mouth, I want his tongue in me,” Bucky chokes out, the words exploding from him like he’d been trying to hold them back his entire life. Steve nearly slams on the breaks in the middle of the highway offramp and has to force himself to remain calm as he stares at the road, willing the distance between them and their home to suddenly disappear.

“Yeah, Buck? If that’s what you really want, you can have it,” Steve manages to say, and Sam doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence before he’s swiping his tongue across Bucky’s hole, hardening the tip as he drags it over the twitching rim. 

And it’s as if making Bucky verbalize this demand has brought down a dam because he’s sobbing with pleasure at the slick friction of Sam’s mouth against his ass, his flesh hand knotting in Sam’s short hair while the other one curls above his head, clutching at the seatbelt like it's some sort of anchor. 

“Please, oh please, please, Sam,” Bucky cries, shivering as Sam curves his mouth around his hole and begins to suck, fucking his tongue against the pucker but not yet pushing his way inside, waiting for Bucky to ask him for it. 

“What’s he doing, Buck?” Steve asks breathlessly from the front seat, and Sam feels the car come to a stop, meaning they’ve probably pulled into the garage at this point. He chances a look up and sees Steve staring heatedly at them in the rearview mirror, and Sam grins and winks at him from his spot between Bucky’s thighs. 

Steve unbuttons his jeans and opens them just enough to get his cock out, stroking it idly as Bucky tries to find his words again.

“He’s.. He’s licking my hole and it’s.. It’s so good Stevie, please.. Please I want more,” Bucky sobs, arching up off the car seat as best as he can in the corset when Sam suddenly pushes the tip of his tongue against his entrance, pressing past the tight ring of muscle and burying himself inside of Bucky. 

The former assassin howls with pleasure and clamps down around Sam’s tongue, his thighs damp with sweat as they quiver against Sam’s ears. Sam can still hear well enough to notice the slick sounds of Steve jerking off in the front seat and grins, sliding his tongue out from inside of Bucky and leaning up so he can capture him in a rough kiss. 

“You want us to fuck you, sweetheart? Want us to fill you up real good?” he growls against Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky is nodding desperately, fervently, throwing his arms around Sam’s neck so he can yank him back in for another rough kiss.

Steve, it seems, has had enough of watching from the front seat, and Sam squints as the car door behind Bucky’s head is suddenly yanked open, filling the back of the car with the bright light of the garage.

“Then we better take you to bed,” Steve murmurs, and Sam snorts because he hasn’t even tucked his cock back into his pants, the uncut length of him jutting thick and red from the front of his jeans. He leans up so Steve can manhandle Bucky out of the car and slam him up against it, admiring the pair of them as they kiss with an almost violent edge. 

Bucky’s knees are locked around Steve’s waist and his fingers are digging into broad shoulders as they trade open mouthed kisses against the car, Steve grinding his cock up against the spit slick curve of Bucky’s ass. 

Sam somehow manages to get them to break apart long enough to get into the house and towards the bedroom, letting Steve take his turn with Bucky for a moment while he finds the lube and makes short work of his own clothing. 

He moans when he turns around and sees Bucky is spread out on the bed with his ass hanging off the edge of it, Steve kneeling on the carpet between his thighs, tongue fucking Bucky alongside the two fingers he’s got buried inside him.

“Fucking hell, it never gets old seeing you two together.”

The corset only makes the picture even better, and Sam surges forward to pull Bucky up for a searing kiss, biting at his already swollen, spit shiny lips to coax them into opening. He licks his way into his mouth and delights in the taste of Steve that lingers here, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s hair to hold him close until he has to break away for air. 

Sam looks down to see Steve’s managed to get four fingers inside of Bucky while they were kissing, allowing himself to be mesmerized by the sight of the slick digits disappearing into Bucky’s body, and relish in the strangled, choked off noises that escape the former assassin.

Bucky’s pale skin is now flush red with pleasure, and his cock hangs heavy between his thighs, achingly hard and leaking precome. Sam kisses him again when he sees the wrecked, slack jawed look on his face, stroking his fingers through his hair to bring him back out of the headspace he sometimes got lost in when they have sex. 

“You’re doing so good, Bucky, opening up so sweet and easy for Steve. Do you need a minute?” Sam murmurs against his lips, and he’s pleased when the fog clears a little bit from Bucky’s eyes, watching him as he shakes his head for any signs that they need to slow down a bit. 

“No. I’m fine, Sam. S’Just been a while since I felt so good,” Bucky whispers back, his voice hoarse with pleasure but free of any anxiety or uncertainty as far as Sam can tell. There’s a slick sound as Steve removes his fingers from inside the other man and he’s sliding up on the other side of Bucky, leaning down to leave a trail of gentle kisses along his shoulder. 

“I’m almost offended, Bucky. I thought I fucked you pretty damn satisfactorily last night,” Steve teases against his ear, startling an amused bark of laughter out of Bucky even as Sam and Steve scooch him the rest of the way up onto their bed. 

“You almost broke the dining room table, that’s what I remember happening last night,” Bucky retorts, only to trail off into a low, shattered moan when Sam’s fingers are sinking into him this time, curving in the slick, tight heat to graze across the sensitive nub of his prostate. Sam swallows the moan with a hungry noise and withdraws his sticky fingers, pulling them both into a sitting position while Steve undresses and dumps his clothes onto the floor.

Sam shoves the pillows apart so he can sit against the wooden headboard and grins, beckoning Bucky to sit on his lap, trading lazy, gentle kisses. He feels the bed move as Steve kneels behind the former assassin, his legs on either side of Sam’s to give himself leverage for what they're about to do. 

It isn’t very often that two of them take another at the same time. It can be painful for the one in the middle if they don't do it right, considering their combined girth, and it's sometimes difficult to find a comfortable position for three fairly muscular men to fuck like this, even on their brand new king sized bed. 

Bucky really enjoys it when they do this though, and who is Sam to deny him when he asks for it so nicely. 

He knows the moment Steve is pressing inside Bucky by the way he whimpers into Sam’s mouth, and Sam is rubbing his hands up and down Bucky’s corseted chest and distracting him with deep, searching kisses, wishing he could get to the sensitive buds of Bucky’s nipples. Steve gets virtually no enjoyment from getting his nipples played with, and Sam feels only mild pleasure, but Bucky goes wild every single time they suck or pinch or lick at the soft pink nubs, and it makes for a good distraction when his body was adjusting to being filled. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Does Steve feel good inside you?” Sam asks in a low, ragged voice, smirking when Bucky moans by way of answering, flesh hand on Sam’s shoulder to keep him balanced while the metal one curves behind his head to bury in Steve’s hair, tugging to try and egg him into bottoming out faster. 

Steve is far more enamored with the dark bruise he’s sucking into Bucky’s collarbone, however, and Sam chuckles lowly as Steve clearly takes his sweet ass time sinking into the man between them. Steve has a knack for tormenting Bucky during sex, but Sam has also witnessed Bucky giving that back to him in spades, so, he supposes it's just one of the odd quirks that came with being Steve and Bucky. 

“Don’t tease him too long, Steve, or he’ll get his revenge the next time it’s your turn,” Sam snickers, gripping Steve by the chin and pulling him over Bucky’s shoulder for a harsh kiss. Now it’s Bucky he tastes on Steve’s tongue, and the flavor drags a rumbling moan of pleasure from Sam’s chest, his hands on Bucky’s waist to tug him and Steve just the tiniest bit closer. 

Steve has bottomed out by this point, and after giving Bucky several long moments to adjust Sam guides him down until the tip of his cock is pressed against his already stretched rim, nudging against the slick pucker but not pushing in just yet.

“You want it, Buck? You want my cock in you, too, stuffing you nice and full?”

Steve tugs Bucky’s legs out from under him for Sam to hook his elbows under Bucky’s knees, holding him in place so he can’t do anything more than take everything they give him. Bucky’s head has fallen back against Steve’s shoulder, now, and he’s staring at Sam like he hung the stars in the sky, a look that, until these recent months, has been reserved only for Steve. 

It sends a slow smile curving across Sam’s lips, and he turns his head to press a kiss against Bucky’s ankle, never once breaking eye contact with the other man. 

“You really do look beautiful in that corset. You’ll have to wear it when we go out sometime.” 

A faint flush spreads across Bucky’s shoulders, making Steve huff out a small laugh as he leans down to nuzzle Bucky’s sweat damp hair, a hand resting lightly over the corseted expanse of Bucky’s stomach.

“Pink is a good color on you, Bucky.”

Sam’s pretty sure Steve deserves the light cuff upside the head Bucky gives him, but after that he can’t really focus on much else except the tight, slick heat of Bucky sinking down around his cock. Steve’s length is a thick line against his own, and Sam groans as it rubs in all the right spots, creating a delicious friction to match the clenching walls of Bucky’s body. 

None of them ever last terribly long when they have sex like this to begin with, and combining that with their activities during the very long ride home mean Sam has to count backwards from ten just to keep from coming the instant he’s all the way inside of Bucky, his fingers digging bruises into the meat of Bucky’s thighs.

He used to worry that Bucky would be triggered or upset by the bruising Steve would sometimes accidentally leave on his hips, but, Bucky always insists that he likes the marks. Neither he nor Steve really believed him at first, which had created some tension between them, until one day Sam catches Bucky admiring the fading purple marks on his own skin, like they're hard earned trophies, precious and special to him. Sam decides that maybe things will be a lot easier for all of them if he and Steve just learn to trust Bucky when he tells them how he's feeling. He hasn’t given them any cause to doubt him yet, after all. 

When they finally make the choice not to hold back during sex, and consciously put effort into leaving marks on Bucky, Bucky sleeps through the entire night without a single nightmare for the first time in weeks. 

He admits later that he likes the bruises because of the memories he associates with them whenever they’re on his skin. Once memories of pain and death and blood, but now of love and gentle touches and warm kisses. Even if he’s home alone and something sets him off, he can dig his fingers into the bruises and remember what it feels like to have Sam and Steve wrapped around him. 

When he puts it that way, it’s hard for Steve and Sam to _not_ leave bruises and bites and beard rash across the sensitive pale skin. 

“You doing good, Bucky?” Steve asks softly, licking soothingly over a love bite he’d just left on the curve of Bucky’s throat. The bruises never last more than a day or two, but that doesn’t ever stop them from giving Bucky as many as he wants. He so rarely vocalizes his desires that they practically trip over themselves to give them to him when he does, whatever it might be.

Bucky nods, too overwhelmed for words at this point, and tugs at Steve’s hair, twisting his head around so he can find his mouth in a messy kiss. 

“Fuck me,” he begs with an aching moan, reaching out to pull Sam in for a kiss, now, loose limbed and pliant from being stretched so open. Bucky likes the way he feels when they have sex like this, and he doesn’t have to do more than cling to Sam and Steve like the anchors they are, surrendering everything that he has to them. 

He was theirs since the moment they pulled him dying, out of the mud and the reeds. They were his the day he remembered what it is to truly want something just because it makes him happy to have it. 

Bucky can’t remember a time before Sam and Steve, anymore, and he can honestly say he doesn’t want to. Before them there is only war and death and darkness, but Sam and Steve are the light, and Bucky never wants to leave the warmth of their embrace ever again.

“Please.”

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice, and he uses what leverage he has to rock himself up into Bucky, groaning at the same time Sam does as their cocks glide slickly against each other, and Bucky’s twisting between them at the sudden, constant pressure this one movement puts against his prostate. He’s so full it’s like they’re touching him everywhere at once, and he arches back against Steve’s chest as the blond haired man starts to rock into him in earnest, shoving Sam’s cock into the sensitive gland each time he bottoms out. 

None of them can get to Bucky’s cock in this position, but Bucky doesn’t really need the extra stimulation with Steve fucking up inside of him, unaware of the steady stream of pleas that are falling from his lips. He can’t stop saying their names, and he yanks on Steve’s hair as a hot wave of pleasure rolls up his spine, clenching his ass around the two cocks buried inside him.

Sam is the first one to come and Bucky cries himself hoarse at the hot rush of slick and heat inside him, trying to fuck himself down on their cocks as best as he can until Steve is lifting him off, letting an overstimulated Sam collapse back into the pillows with a low groan. 

Bucky crawls on top of the other man and kisses him despite his own aching need, spreading his legs wide across Sam’s hips until Steve takes the hint and kneels behind him, pushing his cock back inside Bucky’s loose and leaking hole. 

“So fucking pretty like this, Bucky,” Sam is panting against Bucky’s ear, and Bucky whimpers as Steve fucks him slow and deep, his body rocking with the motions of his hips. Even with Steve’s cock still inside him he feels empty without Sam there, and he kisses him again, mouth open and begging for him. 

The corset is a steady pressure around his chest, and even though Bucky’s come out of his self-imposed shell far more today than he’s ever allowed himself to, he still feels safer and and more secure within the tight wrappings of silk and lace. 

“Steve please, m’gonna come,” Bucky begs, shivering when Steve’s hips start to move a little faster, and then Sam’s hand is fisting around his cock and in two quick, short strokes he’s done for, his muscles going stiff as he comes in thick, white stripes across Sam’s belly. Steve’s not far behind him, and Bucky collapses beside Sam when Steve pulls out, feeling the hot rush of come leaking out of his hole at the sudden emptiness.

He lets Steve loosen the laces on the corset and sighs as Sam gently probes his fingers against the sore pucker of his entrance, knowing that they’re both checking for any blood or serious bruising, like they always feel they have to when they fuck like this. Bucky’s more than happy to lay there and let them massage the blood back into sore muscles, loose limbed and fucked out after such an intense orgasm. 

Steve leaves for a brief moment, and Bucky takes the opportunity to curl up against Sam’s side, metal arm draping lazily over his chest and face pressing into the warm skin of his shoulder. He doesn’t quite manage to fall asleep before Steve comes back and sighs again when he’s made to sit up and drink an entire glass of water, wincing at the faint sting of a warm wash cloth cleaning the come and sweat from his skin.

“You know I’m not so far gone as to need all of this every time we fuck,” Bucky grumbles, letting Sam remove the corset before he lays back down again, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed at the way the other two fuss over him. Sam snorts and pulls him in for a gentle kiss, fingers sliding gently through Bucky’s tangled mess of dark brown hair.

“It’s as much for us as it is for you, Bucky,” Steve supplies, settling down on the bed on the opposite side of Bucky and stroking his ribs, watching him and Sam kiss with a warm expression on his face.

“We need to make sure we didn’t hurt you. It’s important for us to know that you’re okay.”

Bucky supposes he can accept this and shakes his head fondly, turning his head so he can kiss Steve too.

“You’re lucky you’re both so amusing and I deign to keep you around for post coital cuddling,” Bucky says, sounding weary of the world even with the smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

He watches with heavy eyes as Steve leans over him to kiss Sam, closing them before they break apart so it’s the last thing he sees, slinging his arm over Sam’s chest while Steve curls a leg across his.

The final thought that crosses Bucky’s mind before sleep takes him is that the reason why he likes the tight squeeze of the corset so much must be because it reminds him of what it feels like to be bundled between the two people that meant more to him than anything else in the universe. 

There's nowhere safer than the space between Steve and Sam, and nowhere on Earth Bucky would rather be.

He’s smiling when he falls asleep, and that night there are no nightmares or shadows in the dark to plague him – there couldn’t be, not when he’s wrapped up in the warmth and light of Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers.


End file.
